So today I was going to discuss some stuff that was depressing/stressing me, but you don’t want that gloom on your friday do you?

Oh as long as it’s my suffering you are on board?

(Jerks.)

Anybadstart I was going to until something faboo occured. A friend from high school chatted me up on aim. I know who uses aim anymore?

Oh wait I do. God you guys are mean.

(cyber bullying is wrong!)

She immed me and well she has always been slightly awkward to talk with. Well from the get go I pretty much decided I’d get some stress relief out of this convo. So I present to you one of the reasons it probably sucks to know/interact with me in any way.

Friend from school: HI.
Me: Oh my god your caps just broke my eyes!
F: What??
Me: I’m sorry I can’t see what you said because my eyes are broken now. Press 2.
F: Why?
Me: I see you didn’t press 2. I still can’t see though.
F: Why can’t you be serious?
Me: Because I was born a preemie.
F: You were? I didn’t know that.
Me: Oh I sent a memo out from the incubator, check your spam folder.
F: Liar.
Me: Burnt orange crayon.
F: What the heck?
Me: You called me a name so I called you a name.
F: Oh. How have you been?
Me: Still trying to get over the trauma of being a preemie.
F: lol. Sorry.
Me: Sorry doesn’t bring back my lost buddies. I saw em die man.
F: Anyway, I’m finishing up school…
Me: You don’t know you weren’t there.
F: Okay….what about school?
Me: They don’t let preemies in schools.
F: I have on semester left and then I dunno what I do.
Me: You stop going.
F: No. One more semester.
Me: No after you finish you stop going.
F: Yeah and find my job.
Me: Check in the last pair of pants you wore.
F: For?
Me: For your lost job?
F: I didn’t lose it.
Me: I can’t deal with your propaganda.
F: What?
Me: Nothing….
F: What is your job?
Me: Don’t spy on me.
F: What?
Me: You say that a lot.
F: You say weird things.
Me: You say things like a burnt orange crayon.
F: I don’t know what that means.
Me: Preemie slang.
F: Oh.
F: What is your job?
Me: Land Shark.
F: I don’t know what that is….
Me: I sell em.
F: What?
Me: Land Sharks. Door to door.
F: I don’t get it.
Me: No money no sharkie.
F: But what is it?
Me: Of the land variety. You see that Saturday night sketch with the guy in a shark suit?
F: Yeah I think…
Me: Well I sell people guys in sharks suits to go around and you know say “Land Shark”
F: Why?
Me: My preemie officer says I need money.
F: Who?
Me: Top men.
F: o….
Me: *ding dong* “Land shark here”
F: Okay…
Me: No you don’t answer the door he’ll eat you.
F: Who?
Me: Whoever the hell you paid me to give you in a land shark.
F: Oh…they come to the door?
Me: well it won’t work if they don’t. Then you wait till they say “united way collecting money for the needy” or you know some such thing and you open the door.
F: What do they give me?
Me: They eat you.
F: Funny.
Me: I think you lied about seeing it. Pay me for the Land shark now.
F: Maybe I didn’t
Me: No shark if you don’t hand over the bark.
F: What?
Me: “Land shark”
F: Phone…
Me: That’s not my name!
F: On phone.
F: BRB.
Me: My eyeeeeeeeeees. They shattered again!